


Sour Candies

by PumpkinChair



Series: Haunted Houses au [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill and Will are brothers, Bill is 17, Erika and Robert are mentioned for a hot second, Gen, Happy halloween, Mabel is 6, Mason is 6, Trick or Treating, Will is 6, fluff and some angst, i love class struggles, the Ciphers are poor, the Gleefuls are rich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 10:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12651957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinChair/pseuds/PumpkinChair
Summary: Bill and Will lived in a different society than the Gleefuls. They didn't have nice things or go on trips often, and it made Bill a little bitter, but Will had befriended Mason, the younger twin. Bill wasn't exactly sure how it happened, since his brother was painfully shy, but it was nice to see him actually interacting with other kids. At seventeen years old he should be worried about going to college and how to pay for said education, not whether or not his brother was going to grow up socially inept and bullied. Bill had developed thick skin early on in life, and he didn't want Will to have to go through what he did. He wanted his younger brother to live life to the fullest and be able to smile and laugh freely, to be able to make mistakes and eat too much candy, and see the world.





	Sour Candies

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween
> 
> this has been sitting in my docs for almost a week bc i was too lazy to edit it 
> 
> here you go
> 
> this is stand alone from the first part of the series but characters are mentioned and the costumes are based off of it.

Will stood by the front door, staring up at his brother. His head was tipped back comically to see over the wide brim of his wizard's hat—one of their mother's old sun hats covered in brown felt. His small frame was drowning in his cloak made from their father's old trench coat. The six year old was all smiles as he waited for his parents to finish giving Bill the run down of the evening and his responsibilities, because it was a _Big_ _Deal_ for Will to go trick or treating with his friends. Especially when those friends were the spawn of the Gleeful clan.   
  
Bill and Will lived in a different society than the Gleefuls. They didn't have nice things or go on trips often, and it made Bill a little bitter, but Will had befriended Mason, the younger twin. Bill wasn't exactly sure how it happened, since his brother was painfully shy, but it was nice to see him actually interacting with other kids. At seventeen years old he should be worried about going to college and how to pay for said education, not whether or not his brother was going to grow up socially inept and bullied. Bill had developed thick skin early on in life, and he didn't want Will to have to go through what he did. He wanted his younger brother to live life to the fullest and be able to smile and laugh freely, to be able to make mistakes and eat too much candy, and see the world.  
  
"Mom, we'll be fine, sheesh." Bill groaned, shoving his feet into ratty old shoes. "I'm bringing the wagon so I don't lose any kids. We'll be back by 8:30," he was trying to appease her, pleading silently to just be let go. Will was bouncing excited by the door, bucket held tightly in his little fists. He wanted to show off his handmade costume as soon as possible, and they needed to pick up the twins before trick or treating started at 6:00.  
  
With only a handful more reassuring, empty promises and extra kisses―Will squealed about getting cooties―the brothers were off. Will sat in the wagon as Bill pulled it, chattering happily about whatever he thought up. Despite their age difference, Bill was a great older brother, perhaps even over-protective. He could be out getting wasted at some high school party, but instead he was here, dragging his six year old brother down the street in a wagon so he could go trick or treating with his friends. Bill had even dressed up at Will’s insistence―”It’s Halloween!” he had whined, eyes wide and innocent, pleading―so now he donned ripped up clothing splattered with fake blood and dirt, makeup smudged across his cheeks and eyes to give him the appearance of being dead. Bill refused to mess up his hair though, much to Will’s displeasure. _Zombies don't have perfect hair,_ he’d huffed.

Bill walked along, pulling the wagon. The scratchy sound of the wheels turning on the uneven asphalt calming white noise. Will flung his fake wand in all sorts of directions, loudly proclaiming fake spells. He had always been good at entertaining himself, finding it easier to be imaginative on his own than with others. It made Bill’s cheeks burn with hot rage that his brother didn’t have his parents to pay attention to him like he, himself, had. Will was six now though, in kindergarten, and he should be playing with other kids his age. Bill knew his brother was unique, bright and creative. He liked to draw and was fairly good at it for his age. He didn’t like messy kids and got scared from loud noises. Will grew quiet and sometimes even cried when in the presence of too many people, but when he was by himself or with family, he was the happiest person Bill had ever met. 

Even though he was young, Will asked a lot of questions he perhaps shouldn’t. He was curious as to how things worked or where others came from. He didn’t accept “I don't know”s or “that's just how it is”. If one person couldn't answer his question, then he’d find someone that could. Bill once spent an afternoon explaining the structure of DNA to Will just because he had peered over the older’s biology homework and asked what he was doing. Smiling fondly at the memory, the teen tilted his head to glance back at his passenger, taking in the toothy smile and reddened cheeks; it was chilly in the evening. 

“We’re almost there kiddo,” Bill warned, getting Will’s attention. He audibly gasped, head whipping back and forth to glance at his surroundings for the first time. The small, old houses of their neighborhood had blurred into upscale townhouses and dazzling family homes. Bill always felt bitter when he walked through this part of the neighborhood, as if they could tell how poor he was with just one look. The Gleeful’s home was no exception from the beauty, lavished with newly painted brick walls and a preened garden out front. The driveway was smooth, pathway winding as it lead to the front porch, equally as immaculate. There was nothing out of place; it felt unlived in. 

Bill helped Will out of the wagon before he tipped himself over the edge in his haste to get out. Hand in hand, they walked up to the door, knocking twice. Will hung from his hand, leaning back on his heels to swing. He was nervous―Bill could tell―but when the door opened, it was as if nervous wasn’t in his vocabulary. Mason and Mabel stood with their great uncle, looking as proper as they always did. In the short time Bill had known them, he’d never seen either kid with even a hair out of place. Even now they stood side by side, hands clasped together as they looked up at Bill, glancing at Will occasionally. 

“Hi!” Will greeted loudly, much louder than Bill had ever heard him. It caught the attention of all those at the door, four sets of eyes narrowing down at him. Stanley―or Stanford; Bill could never tell―ushered the twins outside after that, offering the teen a brief nod. Bill supplied they’d be back around 8:30 before motioning for the kids to get walking. Mason and Mabel, it seemed, decided to be vampires for Halloween, or a vampiress as Mabel readily supplied with an exaggerated curtsy. 

Mason was more occupied with showing off his cape, a thin material that covered the entirety of his 1850’s-esque outfit. Bill thought it was cute to see the six year old nearly in a three piece suit to go trick or treating, along with his sisters over the top dress. Fake teeth threatened to push passed their little lips when they weren’t chatting, and gave them a sweet lisp when they were. 

Bill walked behind the trio, vaguely aware of Mabel walking more by his side than interacting with the two boys. She’d look up at him every few steps, giggle, and keep walking. He pretended not to notice more for his sake than hers. Quickly, they came upon the first house offering candy and Bill had to remind them not to run as they rushed up to the door. The teen stood by the driveway, keeping guard of the wagon.

Will stumbled up the steps of the house, his makeshift cloak getting trapped under his shoes every few steps. Nevertheless, he made it up with determination, chiming in with his sweetest “Trick or treat!” when the door opened. The couple at the door cooed over the kids, commenting on how nice their costumes were, and even waving to Bill where he stood. Before Will turned away from them after receiving his candy with an enthusiastic thanks, he held up his hand, small fingers wiggling uselessly in the air.

“Can I have one more for my big brother, please?” Will asked, eyes impossibly wide as he stared up at the woman specifically, as if daring her to say no. Of course, that would be impossible with a six year old using his best manners to get some candy for his brother that was too old to trick or treat anymore. She caved almost instantly, kneeling down to let Will pick something out of the bowl for Bill. He scooped up a lollipop with a dazzling smile and thanked her again as he carefully walked down the steps before sprinting after his friends and holding up the candy for Bill to take. 

The evening progressed much the same this way, with the kids gathering up as much candy as they could get from every home they passed. At some point Mason had taken Will’s hand in his, loudly proclaiming he was slowing them down with all his tripping and holding hands would prevent such accidents. Bill watched them with a smile, a sucker pressed to his cheek. Will kept giving him suckers and other similar candies, which Bill knew Will liked. He himself, was much more partial towards sour candies but he could always take them from Will’s haul when the younger was asleep.

After only half an hour of walking, Mabel decided she wanted to sit in the wagon between houses, letting Bill tote her around. Of course he’d have to help her in and out at each stop, which only seemed to encourage her. 

“Bill,” She whined at his side, clinging to the side of his pants, lips pursed in a pout. “Can’t you carry me?” He, of course, scoffed in reply, scooping her up to put her back in the wagon once more.

“You’re too old to be carried.” He reminded her, taking up the handle to walk again. Will and Mason were walking ahead of them, engrossed in a conversation about what Bill guessed to be what candies were the best. Mabel only pouted in reply, kicking her little feet up on the seat across from her. Bill could tell she would be a real spoiled brat when she was older. The Gleeful family seemed to indulge then anything but real affection, but it wasn’t his place to pry. He’d silently judge instead.

Will lugged his bucket of candy up to the next house with an increasing level of difficulty, cheeks puffed up in concentration. This house was everyone’s favorite, Bill’s included, on Halloween. The man that lived their always gave out full sized candy bars, going as far as to let the kids pick out the one they wanted. Will knew Robert well, as he was Bill’s piano teacher. Will sometimes liked to sit in on his lessons, silently listening to the music and swaying in time. Sometimes Robert would bring Will up to the piano and let him play a few notes after the actual lesson. 

Bill walked up with the kids this time, letting the wagon rest at the bottom of the front steps. He lifted Will to ring the doorbell and set him down quickly after. There was a brief moment of shuffling before the door opened, Robert’s tired face coming into view. He propped the screen door open with his hip, arms full of a bowl of candy.

“Trick or treat!” The kids chorused, all bright smiles and extra sweet voices. Robert didn't much like kids, but he put out the best on the holidays. The older man offered a hum in reply before he was kneeling down to their level, letting them pick the candy they wanted. Even a grumpy man like him had to smile at the seriousness of children deciding which candy would be the best to take. 

Candies safely tucked in buckets, the kids began their descent. “Bye Mr. Robert!” Will called, waving from the edge of the driveway. His sleeves slipped passed his hands, flapping uselessly in the air. Robert waved back before heading inside, ready to enjoy the rest of his evening before Erika, his girlfriend, came over to scold him for giving out “cavity inducers” as she called them.

Erika lived only a few streets over, one of the last houses they’d hit for the night. No one liked going up to her house since she didn't like to give out candy. She handed the kids pretzel bags with her best smile, reminding kids not to eat too much candy. A perfect mood-killer, Bill thought. It was getting later, perhaps 7:20 now. They were making quick work of the neighborhood, venturing into every dead end and cul de sac for maximum candy profit. 

Bill was starting to feel the ache in his feet, tiredness tugging at his eyes. He wasn’t sure where the trio got their energy from to continue running and chatting and just being excited in general, but he could use some of that. He was ready to go home regardless. Bill turned the corner with the kids, not even trying to keep up as they dashed up to the next house, or in Will’s case, was dragged. Mason was a little rough with Will sometimes, much to Bill’s disapproval, but his brother wasn’t being hurt in anyway. He wondered if Mason had ever been taught about gentle touches, or if he was just an aggressive kid in general. 

Bill watched as Will tripped again, more frequently now that he was probably tired. Mason scowled down at him, but helped him to his feet anyway. “You keep tripping because of that dumb coat.” The boy huffed, hand securely holding Will’s again. “It’s dumb, like your hat.” The two walked into the street again, moving on unprompted to the next house. Mabel hung back in the wagon, complaining she didn’t want to trick or treat anymore.

“It’s not dumb,” Will replied, eyebrows furrowed in a pout. “Mama made these for me. Mama only makes the best.” Bill was ready, oh-so ready, to chime in and remind Mason to  _ be nice  _ but Will didn’t seem on the verge of tears, so he figured it would be okay to let the two sort it out themselves.

“It doesn't fit you. You keep falling.” Mason scrunched up his nose in clear disgust, even irritated with Will’s costume. He could seem to understand why it looked so mitch matched, why he could see every weak seam and stitch. But the most baffling was why his mom made the costume instead of just buying one. Mason kept such questions to himself, knowing on some level that wouldn’t be nice, and he was told to be nice to friends. 

Will pushed up his sleeves, watching his steps more carefully as they walked up to the next house. He couldn’t think of anything to say in reply, thoughts sluggish with how close it was to bedtime. His words became less enthusiastic with each house, steps slow and uncoordinated. 

“Are you guys ready to head back?” Bill asked, pausing at the end of the street. Erika’s house was immediately to his left, and he really didn't want to put the kids through her treats. He was met with tired mumbles of disagreement, but Mason put up no resistance to being set in the wagon across from his sister. Mabel had been ready to go home for nearly half an hour, happily huddled under Bill’s sweatshirt after she complained it was cold. 

Bill hoisted Will onto his back as he began the trek back, arms burning from the added weight of Mason and their candy buckets in the wagon. it was quiet for the most part while they walked, Will’s head laying heavily on Bill’s shoulder. his short arms were wrapped around his neck, Bill’s free arm supporting underneath him. Bill dropped Mason and Mabel off with little difficulty―”No Mabel you can’t keep my jacket”―and then he was off to go back home, jacket now slung around Will on his back. He couldn’t find it in him to wake him up to put him in the wagon.

At their house, Bill carried Will inside and carefully disposed of him on the bed, breathe held as if that would keep the younger from waking up. Bill went back outside for the candy bucket in the wagon, sinking into the couch once he was back inside. It was roughly 8:25 now, but it felt like he’d been up for days, feet throbbing and fingers numb. He dug his hand into the candy beside him for a packet of sour patch kids, chewing the candy thoughtfully. 

His parents were at a company party, probably enjoying polite conversations and free flowing alcohol. Bill wished their jobs paid more, that they could live a cushion-y life with plenty of food and clothes for the right seasons. His face scrunched up from an overly sour candy, reflecting the bitterness he felt. The teen was tired, always tired, but he tried his best for Will. His little brother deserved to live in blissful ignorance, under the guise that everything around him was fine, that they were all okay. Will deserved to live his life as he wanted, not out of necessity like the rest of them. 

Bill rubbed his tired eyes, smearing his makeup even more. He felt as dead as he looked, but he had hope everything would be better when he went off to college. Bill wanted a job dealing with forensic science, something interesting that paid well. He’d always been interested in biology, and was pretty smart if he said so himself. If he ended up with the job he wanted, he promised himself he’d start sending money home to his family, to save up money for Will’s education. Bill wanted him to be an artist or something equally as risky, something he could get something out of.

Bill finished off his candy before shuffling to the bathroom on numbed feet for a quick shower. He had a test the next morning for one of his advanced classes, and sometimes he thought about giving up, dropping out of school for an entry level job and scraping together whatever money he could to help support his family. But, on a deeper level, he knew he was doing the right thing in the long run. It was hard to make it in this world without an education and he wouldn’t be left behind. So, he’d put up with sleepless nights, with unhealthy school lunches, and incomplete dinners, if it meant a better life for them all.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make me happy.


End file.
